


Of Turtles, Men and Kyber Crystals

by Eternal



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 01:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal/pseuds/Eternal
Summary: The terrarium that Krennic gives him is something to behold.





	

Krennic gives him turtles. Plastron up turtles. Sleeping turtles. Hungry turtles. Turtles that crawl over Galen’s desk in carefully organised drips and drabs and a brand new terrarium to fit them in.

‘Thankyou,’ Galen said, indicating the turtle bypass that had been constructed around his journal.

‘Oh don’t thank me,’ Krennic replied, clipped as always. ‘Thank Maxim, that guy can definitely do a number on the exotic pet emporium market on the best of days. One of these days he’ll get to Myrkh and start a brand new business.’

‘What’s so special about Myrkh?’

Krennic realised then that his tongue had run away with him. ‘Mostly a lot of greenery. You know what they say about convergent evolution,’ He said, all friendly. ‘Which reminds me.’

He goes and fetches the two bottles of pint cherry red he goat from one of the Shoal worlds, arranged his legs on the table so he was sitting directly across Galen and poured them both a glass. Minute bubbles float to the top of the drink that Galen accepts.

‘You’re too kind Orson.’

‘Sometimes, I wish I could do more for you.’ Krennic said, gazing around the cramped room. And on some level he really did. ‘A toast to the continued success of your Kyber crystal research project.’

‘To turtles and Kyber crystals,’ Galen said, swivelling his drink to meet Krennic’s.

After a long contented draught, Krennic stands up and made a face. ‘I suppose it’s time I got going. I might pop by later to check how you’re doing.’

* * *

And when it comes to the end of the month, Krennic’s eyes are cooler, harder and it seems that his hair was neater and had built up some resistance to entropy. ‘Are the turtles a distraction?’ He says carefully.  
  
‘Well, a pleasant one,’ Galen replied as one, the one he’d nicknamed Galaxy, waddled on his table. ‘It doesn’t really impact on the project.’

‘Really.’ Krennic said then paused and it seemed to Galen that the shadows were long and remained so even when Krennic found a chair. He didn’t sit around on the tables anymore. There were also no more trivia nights with the other engineers and it seemed that the cape and polished black boots with the gloves had stopped being a funny costume and become his permanent second skin.

‘I found them a new home down in Spania Five. You do agree, don’t you? I think taking them away would give you more focus.’

Galen said nothing.

Orson giveth. Orson taketh. 

So Krennic took all of the turtles away, packed them in a box from the youngest to the oldest and when he came back an hour later, Galen thought he smelled faintly of smoke.

‘All gone,’ Krennic said when he returned and clapped his hands like he thought it was a grand joke that Galen couldn’t understand the punchline of. There was the terrible feeling that Galen felt again of all of their commonality had been sucked out of the room and that nothing no longer stood between him and the man who had murdered Lyra and scared away his daughter. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘No.’ Galen replied after a belated moment. ‘I just wished that you visited more often.’

‘I’m a bit more busy nowadays.’ Krennic said but he had made his voice more soft. And nervous. ‘But do you know something, Galen, I feel exactly the same way too.’ And then he gives one of his all knowing smiles, wiping away his uncertainty with hubris. ‘I’m saving you from being bugged by little minor things. I’m here helping to shape your environment so you can build something bigger, grander and better.’

Galen held his tongue. Forever if necessary. And he missed the turtles as much as he missed the original Krennic before the man had thrown the entire box together with his conscience out into the fire.

And, in spite of it all, Orson still had the same face. That was what hurt the most of all.

 


End file.
